Horcrux Theory
by Mac Black
Summary: bad name, I know. Harry, along with Hermione, Ron and one Draco Malfoy search for the Horcruxes in order to destroy Voldemort. HPDM slash, mild RWHG.
1. Prologue

**Prologue: Letters**

_23rd July_

_Dear Harry,_

_I realise that you are most likely disinclined to read a letter from the likes of myself, but I must beg you to read this one, at least, in its entirety before disposing of it in whatever manner you see fit._

_Let me first express my deepest sympathies for the loss of Albus Dumbledore. He truly was a great man, and a greater wizard. _

_I would like to make it clear to you that I never had any wish, nor intention, of becoming a servant to Voldemort. When he threatened the lives of my parents, however, I foolishly felt it was the only way to save them. I should have gone to Dumbledore for help, but my own foolish pride told me I could handle everything myself. I tried to appear as though I was helping the Death Eaters when in fact I did nothing. _

_They have, however, recently discovered my true intentions and I have been forced to flee my own home. After witnessing the murder of both of my parents there I am in no rush to see the place again._

_I therefore am writing to beg your help, and your forgiveness. I realise that you must feel you have no reason to help me, so allow me to give you one._

_I am prepared to help you and your cause in any way that I can, and in fleeing my home I managed to bring with me some of my father's old letters and notes. I have looked over these briefly and must say, with no embellishment, that you will find them quite useful._

_Please think about this carefully, and send me an answer as soon as possible._

_Yours, most sincerely,_

_Draco Malfoy_

_26th July_

_Dear Draco,_

_I have, as requested, carefully thought over your letter and have decided that you should meet with me and my colleagues. I can organise safe passage for you to the Leaky Cauldron in the afternoon of this coming Saturday. If, after this meeting, we feel that you are sincere in your offer, you will reside with us in a safe house until such time as our business is finished. Thank you for your condolences._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter_

_27th July_

_Dear Harry,_

_Thank you for your offer of safe passage, but I am quite capable of getting myself safely to the Leaky Cauldron on Saturday. I will see you there in the afternoon. Is two o'clock convenient for you?_

_Sincerely,_

_Draco._

_27th July_

_Dear Draco,_

_I do beg your pardon. I was under the impression that you were in need of my help. By all means, show us your capability and get yourself there. I will see you at two o'clock on Saturday._

_Harry._

_28th July_

_Dear Harry,_

_I did not mean to offend you with my last letter. I was merely shocked that you would do such a thing for me and inadvertently allowed it to show in my writing. I must admit I was a little affronted that you think me incapable of getting myself around safely._

_See you in a few days._

_Draco._

_29th July_

_Dear Draco,_

_No offence taken, I was just trying to get you stirred up. Trust you to rise to the occasion brilliantly. I must say though, I could get used to a polite Draco Malfoy._

_Harry._

_29th July_

_Harry,_

_I should have known you were joking. After all these years. Well, rest assured I can read you like a book in person. I just have to get used to this letter writing thing._

_Until Saturday._

_Draco._

_30th July_

_Draco,_

_By all means, read away when I see you tomorrow. But you should know that as well as being able to read you on the surface, I am also quite an accomplished Leglimens. I have been training with Dumbledore himself. Scared?_

_Harry._

_30th July_

_Harry,_

_Dream on, Potter._

_Draco._

_31st July_

_Draco,_

_What? No 'happy birthday'? I'm disappointed, Malfoy. See you this afternoon, ferret._

_Harry._

_31st July_

_Harry,_

_Happy Birthday, you arrogant prick._

_Draco._


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Forgot the disclaimer last time! Not mine! Enjoy, please keep reading. It's mildly entertaining, if I do say so myself.**

**Chapter One: Goodbyes and Revelations**

The alarm clock on the table beside Harry Potter's bed read one minute to twelve. It was on the eve of Harry's seventeenth birthday. He sat on his bed, watching the clock and waiting. His trunk lay packed on the ground at his feet; the only things kept out were Harry's broomstick, invisibility cloak and money bag. Harry held his wand loosely in his right hand.

The clock ticked over to midnight and Harry hummed the first few notes of 'happy birthday' as he brought his wand up. He glanced over his shoulder nervously before performing a shrinking charm on his trunk. Harry picked up the matchbox-sized trunk and placed it in his pocket.

He then pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket and scribbled a few words on it before sending it off with Hedwig, whispering 'meet me at the Cauldron' to her as she nipped his fingers affectionately.

Harry looked around his bedroom anxiously, looking for anything he had forgotten. His gaze came to rest on the loose floorboard visible beneath his bed. Cursing, he dropped to his knees and pried it open, pulling out a stack of letters and shoving them into his pocket. Satisfied that he had remembered everything, Harry looked around his room once more, wishing it a less-than-fond farewell. He was seventeen now; even Dumbledore couldn't keep him at the Dursley's a second longer than he needed to be there. The only reminder that a boy had once lived in this room was a broken quill lying carelessly on the desk and a hastily scribbled goodbye note ('_hopefully forever', Harry had written_) on the messily made bed.

Although Harry was seventeen and therefore allowed to perform magic away from school on the condition that it was not in the presence of muggles, he waited a few minutes to make sure he would not be getting into trouble for shrinking his trunk. When it was clear that there was indeed no 'misuse of magic' note arriving from the Ministry, Harry opened his window, jumped onto his broomstick, threw his cloak over himself and sped off into the night.

Hedwig was waiting for Harry at the Leaky Cauldron when he arrived. Although Harry could have apparated, or even taken the Knight Bus, he had decided to fly – perhaps he felt like he was truly escaping when he flew out the bedroom window, or perhaps he just liked flying. Harry took a room for one night only; he had alternative accommodation but he would not have company until the following night and had preferred to stay by himself in the Leaky Cauldron rather than in a big house.

As Harry was getting into bed, he glanced over at his robe, draped messily on a chair by the door. Sighing at his own sentimentality, he got out of the bed and made his way over to the robe, removing from its inner pocket the stack of letters and returning to bed with them. Harry read the letters, trying to see through the casual ease and light teasing contained in them. Harry kept returning to one particular letter, pondering over the words 'I can read you like a book in person', trying to see some hidden clue or meaning, until he was too tired to keep his eyes open.

Harry awoke just after six o'clock on the morning of the 31st of July, after only five hours of sleep, but felt wide awake on realising that his day was bound to be exciting. He left rather quickly, using the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace to floo to his destination: the Burrow.

Harry managed to land on the floor of the Weasley's kitchen without making too much noise. He crept to the staircase and began climbing his way to Ron's room, cringing when one of the steps creaked loudly under his weight.

Opening Ron's door silently, Harry was surprised to see that the redhead was already awake and sitting up in bed.

"Did you hear me come in?" Harry asked, glancing nervously over his shoulder. Waking up the rest of the family was the last thing either of them wanted to do.

"Nah. I just felt it was time, you know? Just woke up, like that." Ron made to snap his fingers, but Harry stopped him hurriedly.

"Shh. Let's be off then," Harry said, pointing his wand at what he supposed was a pre-packed trunk and whispering the shrinking charm. He handed the newly shrunk trunk to Ron, who put it in his pocket.

"Are we flying?" Ron asked, glancing out the window and shuddering at the chill appearance of the early morning sky.

"Yeah. Flooing's too loud," Harry responded, already creeping to the hallway.

"You first, I always forget which stair is the loud one," Harry said on reaching the staircase.

"Third from top," Ron whispered, making his way silently down the stairs, stepping over the third stair from the top. Harry followed suit, breathing slightly easier once he had passed the creaking step without rousing anyone.

Taking one last look around the Burrow, Harry failed to notice that Ron had stopped dead before reaching the ground floor. He crashed into Ron, putting them both off-balance. Miraculously, both boys managed to keep themselves from falling by grabbing onto the railing at the last minute.

Stopping his flailing, Harry peered over Ron's shoulder to see what had caused the hold up. Mrs Weasley was standing at the foot of the stairs, holding what appeared to be two lumpy parcels.

"I've packed some breakfast for you to eat on the way, dears," she said, sniffily.

"Mum, I'm-" Ron began, but his mother cut him off.

"Don't, Ron. It's ok. I understand why you're doing this. And I understand why you weren't going to tell us."

"I just thought-"

"You just thought that we'd try and stop you," Arthur Weasley said, entering from the kitchen.

"And you were right," Molly added, sighing. "I wish you both would finish school first, but there you go. You're seventeen now, and I can't boss either of you around."

"It has to be done, Mrs Weasley," Harry said.

"And he can't do it alone," Ron put in, standing a little straighter. Harry nodded in confirmation.

"Well, I suppose I should say-"

"Don't," Ron said, interrupting Molly. "Don't say 'goodbye', or 'good luck'. It's too final. I know we won't be able to keep in touch, but we'll see each other again, probably within the year."

"You're right, of course," Molly whispered, stepping forwards and crushing Ron in a hug.

"I suppose you're meeting Hermione this morning?" Arthur said, as Molly released her son.

"Yes." Harry said, unable to elaborate as Molly now had him in a vice grip.

"Well, see you later," Harry said, as Ron hugged his father and followed Harry out the front door.

Harry and Ron ate their breakfast (muffins with bacon and egg inside) while they were flying to meet Hermione at the train station. They barely talked as they flew, and talked even less as they were waiting for Hermione to get off her train. After exchanging greetings, the three of them made their way on foot in complete silence, thinking about the day ahead.

To Harry, the half hour's walk passed in a blur of grim thoughts, and he suddenly found himself at his destination. He wasn't sure how long he had been standing on the doorstep to number 12, Grimmauld place, but he figured it had been a long time when a large raindrop fell onto his arm, outstretched and ready to knock on the door. He looked up and sighed; the gloomy weather reflected his mood perfectly.

Ever the true friends, Ron and Hermione had been waiting patiently by Harry's side until he was ready to enter. Finally, Ron gave Harry a bit of a nudge.

"Go on, mate, we're right here with you," Ron said.

Harry sighed again and knocked. A few moments later a crash was heard from inside, followed shortly by the familiar shrieks of the portrait of Mrs Black, which still remained, unmoved, from its position in the front hall. The door opened abruptly and a flushed Tonks was standing in the doorway. When she saw them, she smiled brightly. "Come in, come in!" she said, ushering them through the doorway before closing the door loudly and turning to the portrait. "Shut up, you," she snarled, yanking the curtains closed over Mrs Black's portrait.

"Remmy!" Tonks called, ignoring the soft sniggers of Ron and Harry at the nickname she was using, "Harry's here!" She led them into the kitchen. "He'll be down in a moment," Tonks said, pulling some mugs out of the cupboard for tea. Harry waited for the inevitable tinkle of broken china before rising from his chair tiredly and helping Tonks.

_Reparo_! he thought, lazily pointing at the cup with his outstretched finger; his wand lay in his robe pocket still. The mug repaired itself instantly, jumping back up onto the kitchen bench. "Thanks," Tonks muttered, barely noticing that Harry had performed the spell both wordlessly and wandlessly.

Ron and Hermione, however, were not so oblivious. They both sat and stared at Harry, open-mouthed. "What? Didn't I tell you? Hm, must have slipped my mind. I realised I can do minor spells like that, the night Dumbledore… I, uh… I helped Hagrid put out the fire on his house."

"How did something that big slip your mind, pray tell?" Hermione said incredulously, recovering first.

Harry was saved having to answer the awkward question by the arrival of Lupin. The werewolf stood tiredly in the doorway. "Harry, it's good to see you," he said genuinely, stifling a yawn.

"Full moon the night before last," Tonks said, by way of explanation, bewitching the teas she had prepared to float gracefully onto the table where Ron and Hermione sat.

"Good to see you too, Remus," Harry said, giving the man a nod and a small smile.

"So, Harry, what can we do for you? You realise there are no Order meetings this week."

"Yes, I do realise that. And anyway, I already told you I've decided not to join the Order."

"Yes, yes, you're right, of course," Lupin mumbled, "so…?"

"I… uh," Harry coughed, "just wanted to say…" Suddenly, Harry found the words difficult to say.

"We came to say goodbye," Ron said bluntly.

"For now," Hermione added hastily.

"Where are you going?" Lupin asked harshly, looking at Harry.

"Uh… we… I have things to do," Harry said, finally finding his voice again.

"But… you have school in a week and a half," Lupin said cautiously, as if he knew what would come next.

"We- we're not going," Ron said, saving Harry the trouble.

"Not going!" Tonks spoke for the first time.

"Look, I don't expect you to understand, because I can't explain everything to you. Dumbledore," Harry swallowed, feeling sorrow overcome him again, "didn't want me to tell anyone."

"Look Harry, I know this is hard," Lupin said understandingly, "but Albus is gone now."

"I know. Don't you think I know that?" Harry asked softly. "It's just… well it makes sense to keep this as quiet as possible. The less people that know, the better. And you'll be safer if you don't know where we're going or what we're doing. I'm not doing this for Dumbledore," Harry choked, "I'm doing it for you."

Lupin looked at Harry's face: determined, fierce and proud, and understood. He nodded, once. "Well, be careful," he said.

"Yes," Tonks agreed, "I don't want to lose any more family."

"But I'm not-" Harry protested, but Tonks interrupted him.

"Well, you're Sirius' godson, and Sirius was a cousin of mine. I've got hardly any cousins left, now. Of course, most of them only had themselves to blame, like Regulus…"

Harry stopped listening as a crazy thought suddenly occurred to him. He was lost in a memory, one that had happened only about two years ago, in this house.

Sirius had been telling Harry that he had run away from home when he was sixteen.

"_But… why did you…?"_

"_Leave?" Sirius smiled bitterly and ran his fingers through his long, unkempt hair. "Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal… my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them… that's him."_

_Sirius jabbed a finger at the very bottom of the tree, at the name 'Regulus Black'. A date of death (some fifteen years previously) followed the date of birth._

"_He was younger than me," said Sirius, "and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded."_

"_But he died," said Harry._

"_Yeah," said Sirius, "stupid idiot… he joined the Death Eaters."_

"_You're kidding!"_

"You're kidding!" Harry shouted, back in the real world and leaping from his chair only to race up the stairs to the same room that he had just visited in his memory. He was gone long before anyone in the kitchen got over their shock enough to stop him.

"Harry?" Ron called, standing abruptly and chasing after him. Hermione shrugged, and continued to sip her tea; it did not look like Harry was upset or angry.

Harry opened the door, crossing the room to stand in front of the tapestry that had attracted his attention just two years ago. It read:

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black 'Toujours pur' 

Harry looked immediately to the bottom of the family tree, next to where he knew Sirius' name was burned out. Regulus Black. He read the name, in wonder. _Regulus Black, a Death Eater. _He pulled out the fake Horcrux he had taken to carrying around with him. _R.A.B,_ the note was from. Could it be Regulus Black? Obviously it had to be a Death Eater, to know about Voldemort's Horcruxes and to call him the Dark Lord.

"Harry?" Asked Ron cautiously, interrupting Harry's train of thought. "Do you – do you think that was him? R.A.B, I mean?"

"Yeah, I think so, Ron," Harry said, turning to face Ron and giving him a smile. "But that hardly leads me closer to the other Horcruxes, and I still don't know whether he managed to destroy the real locket or not."

"Let's ask Tonks," Ron suggested.

"Yeah, OK," Harry agreed, and they walked back to the kitchen together. On entering, Ron looked amusedly at Hermione, who was still sipping her tea calmly and patiently.

"Figured out something exciting, have you?" She asked, finishing her tea and taking her mug to the sink.

"Maybe," Harry replied cryptically, before turning to Tonks.

"Tonks, how much do you know about Regulus, your cousin?"

"Not much, only what Sirius told me… That he joined the Death Eaters and then realised he'd gotten in a bit too deep and tried to flee them. Truth be told, I never knew him."

"Do you know anything else? Like… his middle name, for instance?" Harry prompted, heart beating nervously.

"Actually, I do remember Sirius saying something…" Tonks screwed her face up in concentration. "Sirius said he was named after Sirius' favourite Uncle, Alphard. So I guess that was his middle name. Why?" Tonks asked, suddenly suspicious, because Harry was smiling triumphantly, and so was Ron.

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, quickly replacing the smile on his face with a look of indifference. "Just… looking into history a bit," he said truthfully.

"Does this have something to do with your 'business', Harry?" Lupin questioned, fixing Harry with a serious gaze.

"Well, yeah, it does," Harry admitted, feeling that it was safe enough to answer honestly, "but don't bother trying to work it out!" Harry grinned, and Lupin smiled back at him, seeing a bit of both James and Sirius in the young man standing before him.

"All right then, keep your secrets," Lupin said, pretending to sound offended, then added in a serious tone, "but, seriously, Harry… if you ever need anything, even if it's just a place to stay-"

"Thanks, but I doubt I'll want to come back here in a hurry," Harry said, suppressing yet another memory of his godfather.

"Oh, I don't mean here – goodness, no," Lupin said, "this is your house anyway, Harry. I meant you can come stay with Tonks and me, whenever you like – at Tonks' place."

"That goes for Ron and Hermione, too, of course," said Tonks helpfully.

"Thanks guys," Harry said.

"Harry," Ron said, having just checked the time on the muggle clock hanging above the sink, "we should really-"

"You're right, Ron," Harry said, looking at his watch, "we have to go," Harry said, sadly.

"Well, look after yourselves," Tonks said, pulling Hermione into a hug. Hermione sniffed conspicuously.

"Yes, do," Lupin agreed, looking at Harry. Harry looked back at him, for a moment, barely registering that Tonks had released Hermione and was now crushing Ron, before stumbling forwards and hugging him fiercely.

"Thanks for everything, Remus," Harry said, blinking back tears.

"Don't do anything too rash," Remus whispered, sounding suspiciously like he was choking.

"I'll be careful, I promise," Harry said, stepping back once more to be crushed in a hug by Tonks, who was crying freely.

"Good luck, Harry," Tonks said, releasing Harry as quickly as she had embraced him.

"Ok, let's go," Harry said, and Remus and Tonks followed them all out into the front hall. Harry opened the door, and Ron and Hermione left first, muttering goodbye again. Harry stepped over the threshold and looked back through the door which he held open, to see Remus Lupin, the only father figure he had left, short of Mr Weasley (in whom he hardly felt he could confide) standing in the hall and waving goodbye, with an attempt at a smile on his face despite the tears in his eyes.

A/N: phew! Long one. They won't all be this long, I don't think. I'm just dividing the story where it seems logical, most of it is already written. It will probably reach about 25000 words though. Yikes!


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two – Marauders 

"Harry," Hermione began once they had apparated from Grimmauld place to the Leaky Cauldron, "Who exactly are we meeting here?"

"I bet you've been dying to know, haven't you?" Harry asked, smiling slightly as he recovered from the unpleasantness of apparating (flying, unfortunately, was just impractical with the time limit they had today, and Harry's broom had been shrunk and placed inside his shrunken trunk). Ron and Hermione both nodded eagerly, realising that Harry was about to tell them whom he had been corresponding with for over two weeks.

"We're meeting someone who wants to help us, and I expect he will be quite useful. To begin with, he has some interesting information to share with us," Harry said, opening the door and nodding a greeting at Tom before beginning to climb the stairs to the private meeting rooms.

Ron and Hermione followed, glancing at each other, as confused as ever. Hermione began to pester Harry for more details.

"Harry," she whined, "that's still not telling us. It could be anyone!"

"Oh, could it now, Hermione?" Harry asked, clearly amused as he stopped outside a closed door. Before she had a chance to answer, Harry continued his teasing. "Wasn't it you who was saying just the other day that the only useful information we would be able to get would be from-"

"A Death Eater," Ron cut in, eyes wide, "But Harry, you didn't…"

"I have successfully tracked down, requested, and been granted, by way of owl, a meeting with one Draco Malfoy," Harry said flippantly, enjoying the shock on the faces of his two best friends.

Unsurprisingly, Hermione was the first to recover. Ever the rational one, she put the childhood hate aside, and said, "but Harry, he wasn't exactly in You-Know-Who's favour. What could he have to offer us?"

"You're right, Hermione, he wasn't in Voldemort's good graces, but his father was."

"Lucius? He died in Azkaban; what's he got to do with this?" Ron snapped, annoyed that Harry had kept them in the dark about something as big as this.

"Draco has access to his father's old notes and letters from his Death-Eater days." Ron and Hermione were silent for a few moments.

"And now," Harry said, breaking the silence, "it is time to meet the last member of the new generation of marauders," Harry opened the door with a flourish.

A cloaked figure sat at the end of a long rectangular table, hunched on a stool that was perched near the fireplace. At the sound of the opening door, Draco Malfoy looked up sharply, the hood falling from his pale face. He narrowed his eyes slightly, motioning for Harry to close the door.

Harry walked in confidently, beckoning Ron and Hermione to follow. Hermione closed the door behind her, and stood very close to Ron.

"Draco," Harry said amicably, "Thank you for coming."

"The pleasure is all mine," Draco said through his teeth as he glared at Ron, sounding as if he couldn't be lying more.

Harry sighed, glancing at Ron and Hermione apologetically. "Look, _Malfoy_," he began, noting that Draco flinched at the sound of his own last name, "It took me a lot of effort to be here now, so the least you can do is be civil."

"Really, Potter? I'm touched you think I'm worth the effort," Draco sneered, quickly covering his disappointed expression that hearing the hatred in Harry's voice had caused. Harry to turn and address his friends quietly.

"Sorry, guys, I was expecting this to be a little easier, given the circumstances, but apparently, _Malfoy_ has decided to be as difficult as ever. Do you want to go downstairs for a drink while I sort this out? I'll call you up when he's ready to talk nicely." Ron and Hermione nodded and left, Hermione silently indicating to Harry that she was carrying her DA coin and Ron sending one last glare at Malfoy for good measure.

"Now," he growled, turning to Malfoy angrily. "Just what was that all about? After all I've done for you, the least you can do is treat my friends and me civilly. Particularly considering you are going to be spending the rest of the school year with us and not at school where that attitude of yours is actually appreciated by some half-wits!"

"All you've done for me?" Draco reiterated, sounding surprised. "I got myself here. All you've done for me is allow me to meet you here."

"And after six years of nothing but hatred and animosity between us, I think that's quite a big achievement," Harry growled, losing his temper quicker than usual. He wondered why he felt so disappointed in Draco's behaviour. Perhaps he was expecting too much of the boy.

"I wouldn't say _nothing_," Draco mumbled barely audibly.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Forget it. Let's just… try and be civil to each other, at least."

"Look, I'm sorry, ok? It's just… my situation isn't exactly easy right now, as you know… And… I am very grateful for your time."

"Yeah, well," Harry mumbled, looking down, "when you sent me that letter asking for help, I was kind of expecting to find you a changed person. Obviously that was naïve of me."

"Not at all, Harry." Harry looked up, surprised. "Look, I just… I am the same person I have always been, but I have still changed. I don't have the same beliefs now. I'm not a clone of my father, Harry."

"I know." Draco noticed that Harry was looking at him with a slightly softened expression, and looked hurriedly away, feeling his cheeks go warm as they made eye contact. He cleared his throat, and decided to break the awkward silence.

"Now… I gather, from what you said before you came in, that you have not told them that I initiated contact?"

"No," Harry said, "I figured you'd want to try and retain some of your dignity. Besides, telling my best friends that you wrote to me begging for my protection and help kind of makes you seem weak. Not that I think that," Harry added hurriedly, seeing the shame on Draco's face, "It's just… I'm trying to convince them that you should come with us, and I want to make sure they know, like I do, that you are an advantage, not a burden."

"You – you want me to come with you?" Draco asked, genuinely shocked. He felt an unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest.

"Of course. Why else did you think I bothered to come? Why else would I bring Ron and Hermione with me? If not to test whether or not you'd be able to work with us."

Draco suddenly understood Harry's tenseness earlier. He had acted terribly to Harry's friends, and clearly Harry was beginning to regret his decision.

"I'm sorry I was so grouchy before. I just… it's a rough time, like I said."

"No, you were fine. I know Ron and Hermione will tolerate working with you… and I may even enjoy it, if your personality in letters is anything like your real personality."

"That's me when I'm relaxed. This is me when I'm tense."

"Well then I like you a lot when your relaxed and a little less when your tense," Harry said, gripping Draco by the shoulder in a reassuring manner and feeling warmth spread through his fingers.

"Thanks, Harry," Draco said, looking at the floor rather embarrassedly.

"No problem, Draco," Harry smiled genuinely, and fished a galleon out of his pocket. "Now, if you'll agree to working with me, shall I call them up?" He asked, flipping the coin and catching it again.

Draco nodded, returning to his stool and briefly wondering when Harry had let go of him, for he still felt warm. He gazed at Harry, feeling nervous as Harry rubbed his thumb over the coin a few times before returning it to his pocket.

"Pumpkin juice?" Harry asked, turning to pour some pumpkin juice from a jug on the table into four glasses.

"Are you calling them up, or what?" Draco asked, confused.

"Already did," Harry replied, grinning as he realised Draco had completely missed the significance of the fake galleon. Before Draco could open his mouth to disagree, the door opened.

Hermione and Ron walked in, glancing cautiously at Draco before catching Harry's smile and relaxing. Draco, meanwhile, was gaping at Harry.

"He's agreed," Harry said, by way of greeting Ron and Hermione before turning amusedly to Draco. "Something wrong, Draco?" Harry asked.

"How – How did you – you didn't do anything! You didn't even whisper, or – or use magic or anything." Ron grinned, understanding what Draco was confused about.

"Ah, but I did," Harry said cryptically, pulling the galleon out of his pocket and tossing it to Draco. Draco inspected it, and tossed it back to Harry.

"It's a galleon. What's your point?"

"Here," Hermione said, pulling her fake galleon out of her own pocket and handing it to Draco, "Harry, activate yours." Harry obliged, pulling his out and running his thumb over it twice. Draco's eyebrows shot up as the galleon he was holding suddenly became warm.

"Impressive, Potter," Draco commented, grinning at Harry.

"Actually, it was Hermione," Ron said, looking at Hermione proudly.

"Good job, Granger," Draco said, nodding at her and returning the coin.

"Harry, isn't it about time we got down to business?" Hermione asked, taking a seat at the table and sipping a pumpkin juice.

"Yes, of course. Before we begin," Harry said, in a manner reminiscent of Dumbledore, "I have a couple of ideas I want to throw out in the open. That reference to the marauders before was not unintentional. I've been thinking recently how useful it would be if we were actually animagi ourselves. Don't interrupt, Ron," Harry said, catching sight of the incredulous look on Ron's face and the open mouth, "we can just practice in between gathering information, but, to start off with, a lot of our work will be able to be done from the one place. And, secondly, it isn't as hard as it sounds. Ron, if Pettigrew could do it, we certainly can." Harry paused, draining the rest of his pumpkin juice. Now for the hard part.

"And… I've also been thinking… these coins won't be enough. We're going to need a better system to get in touch with each other."

"What have you got in mind, Harry?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"Well… I… sort of… found this book, in the library at Grimmauld place," Harry said, ignoring Hermione's frown and gasp, "and… it seems to be… I mean, that is, it… it seems as if the Dark Mark spell was adapted from a spell in that book."

"Harry, you're not suggesting-" Hermione began hotly.

"No, just hear me out, Hermione," Harry said, pulling a folded piece of parchment from his pocket, "I thought we could adapt the original spell a bit… so basically what would happen is we magically tattoo ourselves, so that when any of us presses on our own tattoo, all the others feel the tattoo warm up, and depending on who presses it, a certain area of the tattoo will change colour."

Intrigued, Draco leaned forward, nodding. "Harry, you realise we can combine this with the _lieuthas_ spell to include the location of whoever is pressing the tattoo. The location will come to the minds of all the others as they feel their tattoo warm up."

"Good thinking, Draco, but I have already incorporated it. This is the design I came up with," Harry said, unfolding the parchment and showing it to the others. It was quite simple, just a circle with three letters inside it. H, R and D.

"So our initial changes colour when we press our tattoo, and the circle changes when you press, Harry?" Ron clarified.

"Yeah," Harry muttered, blushing.

"Pffft, don't be modest, Potter, it's an effective symbolism. You are the one holding this all together, after all." Draco said.

"Hermione?" Harry asked: she had been oddly silent throughout the discussion.

"Ok. Let's do it," she said, surprising them all.

"The thing is, I can't cast the spell on you all. You have to do it yourselves."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"The reason Voldemort can tell when his Death Eaters are lying is because he cast the spell on them himself. It allows you access to the other's mind, regardless of how strong their Occlumency is."

"Wow. That's really clever. I suppose the original intent of the spell was that?" Hermione said.

"Yes. Actually the spell I've devised is based more on the Dark Mark than the spell in the book, but the main differences are it won't hurt when the tattoo warms up and I'm not casting it so I wont have access to your minds."

"So… will you show us how it works?" Ron asked, looking curiously at Harry.

Harry rolled up the sleeve on his left forearm, revealing a few nasty looking scars. "Failed attempts at devising the spell," he said rather sheepishly. He pointed his wand at his forearm and muttered "markis revelo lieuthas persona" concentrating hard on the image on the parchment before him.

The others gasped as the design Harry had drawn on the paper became visible on his forearm in black. The three letters were placed in an upside down pyramid design within the circle, with the H and the R on top and the D in the centre underneath.

"Does it hurt?" Ron wondered, grimacing as Harry nodded.

"Only for a couple of hours, then it will never hurt again. I wouldn't ask you to do this if I didn't have to – it's for our own safety," Harry said. "You have to concentrate on the design. Stare at it, if you need to."

Hermione rolled up her sleeve and, taking a deep breath, cast the spell. Ron followed shortly after. They all looked expectantly at Draco, who blushed.

"Harry, I want you to cast mine," he said, looking at the floor, "so you know you can trust me."

Ron and Hermione, who had expected Harry to protest, were surprised when he just nodded and motioned for Draco to roll up his sleeve. In that moment, when Harry and Draco made eye contact, an understanding passed between them. The only way Draco would agree to help was if he was sure Harry trusted him. And Draco knew that Harry had understood that. Although Harry already trusted Draco, he knew that Draco needed certainty. He knew Draco thought he might kick Draco out of the deal if he didn't trust Draco.

Harry whispered the spell and pressed his wand tip to Draco's forearm. Draco flinched in pain when Harry lightly touched the black design with his finger. Ron and Hermione didn't notice, choosing instead to gaze at their own tattoos.

"Right," Harry said after a moment of silence, "First thing's first. Is anyone hungry?"

Despite the slightly spiritual atmosphere from the marking of the tattoos, everyone laughed.

"I'm starved!" Ron exclaimed.

"Actually, I am a little hungry," Draco agreed.

"Me too," Hermione admitted, "shall I order some food up from Tom?"

"No, it's ok, Hermione, I think we should go have dinner at home."

"Home?" Draco asked, confused. Hermione didn't seem to know what Harry meant either. Only Ron was unsurprised, a smug look on his face.

"The base. I've found a place for us, it's in muggle London but there's all sorts of protection charms and things on it, like Grimmauld, except this will be all our own and we won't have any Order members interrupting us." Harry explained, rising from his chair.

"We'll have to do side along apparition, as I'm not authorised for a portkey and they can be tracked. The fireplace isn't safe to use, it's too easily monitored. So, who wants to go first?"

"Take Draco, Harry," Hermione said, "Ron and I will clear things up here while we wait for you to get back."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said.

"See you in a few," Draco said, causing both Ron and Hermione to raise their eyebrows at the casual tone.

"Shouldn't be too long. Ten minutes? I'll have to get him inside, obviously. Ready, Draco?"

Instead of replying, Draco stepped up to Harry and gripped his arm tightly. Harry concentrated on his destination and with a crack, both he and Draco disappeared.

They arrived on a grimy street looking much like Grimmauld place, and were standing facing what appeared to be an empty block. Harry bent close to Draco's ear and whispered, "the marauder's base can be found at number forty-four Sinker's lane, London." Draco watched, fascinated, as a rather shabby looking house popped up out of the ground.

"Come on, let's get inside," Harry suggested, grabbing Draco's arm and pulling him towards the house.

"But- how?" Draco asked, once they were inside.

"Let me get Ron and Hermione first, then I'll explain. Dobby!" Harry said, looking around expectantly.

"Yes Harry Potter sir?" Dobby asked breathlessly, appearing in the room with a crack.

"Would you be so kind as to show Draco to his room?"

"Which room would that be, Harry Potter sir?" Dobby asked, looking at Draco with a hint of recognition in his eyes. He nervously crept closer to Harry.

"That would be my room, Dobby," Harry said, adding to Draco, "there's only two bedrooms, and Hermione and Ron will be sharing the other."

"Yes Harry Potter sir," Dobby said, nodding, "is that all?"

"Not quite, I just want you to know, Draco is here because I trust him: he is under oath and he is going to help me fight Voldemort. So don't be afraid, and please try and help him to feel welcome. I will be back shortly with Ron and Hermione."

"Oh! Harry is bringing his Weezy!" Dobby said, nodding eagerly to show he understood.

"Yes, that's right," Harry said, catching Draco's raised eyebrow and grinning in response. "Now, I must go, but I will be back momentarily." He left through the front door, apparently to apparate from the street.

When Harry returned with Ron fifteen minutes or so later, he noticed that Draco had not come down from their shared room yet.

"You're sharing with Hermione – I figured you guys wouldn't mind," Harry said slyly, "it's the third door on the left up the stairs. Bathroom's next door and Draco and I are sharing the room directly across. Library opposite bathroom. Back in a bit," Harry said, quickly making his way back out the door.

Harry and Hermione made their way into the house.

"It's nice not to have a nasty old portrait screaming at us," Hermione commented, referring to Mrs Black's portrait at Grimmauld place.

"Yeah, it is."

"Harry, how did you find this place?"

"I'll tell you all later," Harry said dismissively.

They walked into the kitchen and Harry was surprised to find Draco and Ron sitting at the kitchen table, apparently talking rather civilly over some butterbeer. Spaghetti bolognaise stood in a steaming pot in the middle of the table.

"Um…" Harry said confusedly.

"Oh, Harry, you're back," Ron stated.

"I asked Dobby to prepare some lunch for us. It looks quite marvellous," Draco said simply, looking at the food with an appreciative gaze.

Dobby, who stood in the corner, was obviously pleased with the praise.

"I is doing my best, sir," he said, bowing.

"Yes, it does look wonderful, thankyou, Dobby. That's all we need for now. Please go enjoy yourself for a bit," Harry said, sitting down next to Ron and helping himself to a plate of spaghetti.

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said, and disappeared with a crack.

"So, I thought we should work out a bit of a routine, and also assign jobs to people," Harry began, looking to Ron for the expected protest.

"Chores?" Ron asked, dismayed.

"No, Ron. Dobby is happy to do the chores for us. He _enjoys_ it, Hermione," Harry added, seeing Hermione's scowl and remembering her S.P.E.W. club. "I mean projects. For example, I want Hermione to research animagi so that we can begin practising as soon as possible. Ron, you'll be looking into some of Dumbledore's memories. I've got his pensieve from McGonagall. And Draco will be showing me his father's memories and notes."

"Right," Ron said, looking excited. Finally, they were taking some action.

"We'll have some form of training or practice every morning at six o clock for two hours before we eat breakfast," Harry began outlining their schedule.

"Six? I can't get up that early!" Ron said, stopping the flow of food into his mouth just long enough to protest.

"You can, and you will," Harry said, not leaving room for argument, "then, after breakfast we will all go our separate ways to work on our assignments or projects, then we meet for lunch. No discussion of work at meals. Then we work for another couple of hours, have the rest of the afternoon off, and have dinner together. After dinner we have a meeting to discuss the day's progress."

"I think that will work very well, Harry," Hermione said approvingly.

"Me too. I like the 'no work at lunch or dinner' rule. We need to have some socialising that does not involve work." Draco said.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three – Trust and Tension**

The four marauders soon settled into the routine; in the morning, they had animagus training. Harry, who had mastered it on the third day, tutored the others. So far everyone but Hermione had managed to transform into their animagi forms. Apparently this was something books could not help with.

"Hermione," Harry said, coming out of his animagus form – a large, black dog – with a pop, "just stop trying, and focus your mind on what embodies you as a person."

Harry had read that a person's emotional connections and self-image had a lot of influence on the form an animagi took. Clearly, Sirius had meant a lot to Harry if his animagus form was similar.

Hermione closed her eyes, and suddenly in her place there was a graceful looking eagle. She only managed to hold it for a few moments before she returned to her human form, grinning excitedly.

"Wonderful. Now, we can move on to different training tomorrow morning, but I want you all to practice your animagi forms at least three times a day until you've mastered it." Harry said, smiling.

"What training's next?" Ron wondered aloud.

"Defense," Harry said simply, signalling by his depature that the training session was over. The others got to their feet and followed him to the kitchen for breakfast.

"Harry," Draco said quietly after Ron and Hermione had stacked their plates and left for their morning's jobs: Hermione to research potentially useful spells and Ron to continue sifting through Dumbledore's memories.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, looking Draco in the eye. Draco gasped and momentarily forgot what he wanted to say; he was suddenly struck by Harry's beauty.

"Why haven't you looked into my mind?" Draco asked, breaking himself free of his stupor and looking at the ground embarrassedly.

"Draco, I'm not going to invade your privacy like that." Harry said stubbornly, sounding annoyed. Draco wondered why Harry would be so reluctant to enter his mind.

"Well, I've given you permission, haven't I? It must be something else," Draco prodded.

"Just drop it." Harry growled.

"No! Why won't you do it?" Draco asked desperately.

"I thought you understood. I thought we had an understanding," Harry said, sounding indignant.

"I do understand, but that doesn't mean I have to like it!"

"Well if you understand why are you asking me?"

"Maybe I just want you to tell me for yourself. Be open, upfront. For once," Draco mumbled.

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean!" Harry asked, rising from his chair and raising the volume of his voice.

"Nothing, just that you're hiding something. From me."

"Draco, I hide lots of things. What makes you think-"

"I can see it in your eyes, Harry. There's something that you want to tell me but won't. Or can't." Draco said, deliberately lowering the tone of his voice and speaking without anger.

"You'll find out, without me having to tell you. I won't be able to hide it forever," Harry said softly, lowering his gaze. Draco watched Harry leave the room, noticing his shoulders drooping and feeling decidedly guilty for bringing it up in the first place.

Draco waited for a few minutes, deciding to let Harry calm down on his own, before heading to their study room. On his way down the corridor, Ron stuck his head out of the room where he was working.

"Everything ok, mate?" Ron asked, looking genuinely concerned. Draco smiled wryly – a few weeks ago he would never have dreamed of discussing his private life with Ron Weasley, but now it didn't seem so far fetched.

"Not really, but thanks for caring," he said in a sarcastic tone but smiling in a friendly manner nonetheless.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nah, I'll be ok, it's just… Harry."

"He tends to have that effect on people," Ron commented, grinning knowingly.

"Not this effect, I'm sure," Draco muttered.

"It's not that bad, surely?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows. Draco gave him a look full of his frustration and longing. Ron lowered his eyebrows, frowning in sudden comprehension. Draco laughed.

"Yeah, well. It'll be fine. Promise. Don't worry, I won't corrupt him. I know you would hate that."

"Well, maybe _I_ would, but I'm not the one who gets to choose who he falls for, unfortunately. You know his happiness means the world to me, Draco," Ron said. The understood but unspoken addition to his phrase was _and if you fuck up his chance at being happy I'll kill you in your sleep._

"Yeah. Me too, ironically."

"Shit, you really mean that."

Draco didn't bother to reply; he knew Ron understood. Instead, he continued to the end of the corridor where his and Harry's study room was.

Draco raised his fist to knock on the door before he realised what he was doing. Pushing the door open, he stepped into the room and closed it softly behind him. Harry turned around immediately.

"Draco, I'm sorry, it's just… There are some things about me that no one knows, and I'm not ready to tell anyone yet. Most people have never even seen the real me."

"I know," Draco said, knowing without having to ask that somehow he was included in the minority that had seen Harry completely at ease with himself, and completely aware of the weight that rested on his shoulders.

"And… I will tell you… eventually. Just not now. Not yet." He continued, sighing and turning back to his notes.

"I know. It's ok, I'm sorry for pushing the subject. I realise you don't want to know all my secrets when you aren't ready to tell me yours yet. It goes against your Gryffindor morals, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess it does go against my morals. But I was placed in Gryffindor because of my morals; I didn't adopt my morals because of being in Gryffindor."

"I know. But you really are the typical Gryffindor."

"Oh really?" Harry asked cheekily, grinning at Draco and beckoning him forwards.

Draco smiled confusedly and walked over to Harry. Harry bent close to Draco and whispered into his ear. As much as Draco tried to suppress it, he couldn't help but shiver at the feeling.

"I'm going to tell you a secret. Ron and Hermione are the only two people still alive who know this."

Draco felt his breath hitch as he took in Harry's scent; the proximity of the other boy made him feel slightly giddy. _He smells like a woody forest_.

"I was almost put in Slytherin."

Draco, snapping out of his reverie, pulled back from Harry and stared at him in shock for a moment, before he burst out laughing.

"Ha! That was funny, Harry, almost too funny. You had me convinced for about a second, but-"

"Draco, I'm not joking. The sorting hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I asked it not to so it put me in Gryffindor instead."

Draco expelled a large amount of air through his nose and closed his eyes in a slightly pained expression. If Harry had been in Slytherin… Merlin, his life could have been so different. They would have been best friends, Draco was sure. He might have even had the courage to stand up to his father, with the Boy-Who-Lived as his best friend.

"Things might have been so different."

"I know. I think about it a lot, actually. Geez, Malfoy, if I was in Slytherin I would have turned you years ago!" Harry joked.

Draco blushed slightly at the subtle and no doubt unintended and unnoticed second meaning of that comment, thinking that he _had_ been turned – in more ways than one – by Harry Potter.

"What is it with you? You always have some trick hidden up your sleeve," Draco said, to cover up his embarrassment.

"Is that so?" Harry asked, rolling up his sleeve to expose his arm. "Hmmm… nothing there, but oh, wait!" He said dramatically, turning his back to Draco and lifting his shirt up over his shoulders to expose his shoulder blades. Coiled on his right shoulder blade was a snake tattoo.

Harry sucked in a breath as he felt Draco's fingers ghost over his tattoo. Then, as suddenly as they were there, they were gone again, as if Draco had suddenly realised what he was doing.

"My, my," Draco said amazedly as Harry shrugged and pulled his shirt back down, "you really are full of surprises, Harry Potter."

"Yeah, well so are you, Draco." Harry said, looking embarrassed at the way Draco seemed to be admiring him. Draco raised his eyebrows in question. "I mean, come on. Who would ever have thought you'd be here right now? Helping me? Being civil to me?"

"Harry, I'd like to think we're more than just civil to each other."

"Yeah, ok then. Who'd have thought we'd be friends?"

Draco sighed. _Friends. _"I don't know," he said, "It seems crazy, really, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry said, sighing slightly, "crazy."

"We'd better get to work," Draco commented.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." As Harry turned to his desk and sat down again, Draco thought he looked a little sad.

"Cheer up, Potter, it's only work."

"Hmph," Harry mumbled and began reading some of Lucius' old letters.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four – Avis Revelo 

Three letters later, Harry hadn't found anything of use and glanced at Draco quickly. The blond boy was glaring at his papers.

"Lighten up, Draco, they're only papers."

Harry grinned as he saw Draco's face scrunch up; Harry knew Draco was trying to control an outburst. It came anyway. He started laughing. Really laughing. Harry just watched him, mesmerised. Draco Malfoy really was something. So beautiful. Harry couldn't even remember what he'd said to make Draco laugh like that. But whatever it was, it must have been funny; Draco's eyes were now starting to water slightly.

Finally Draco calmed down and looked at Harry. "Thanks, I really needed that."

"It wasn't even that funny," Harry said, grinning back at the smiling Draco.

"Yes it was. It was hilarious! I was – you – oh man that was funny."

"Whatever, Draco, I need to get back to reading these letters."

"Wait, Harry, I've found something."

"What is it?" Harry asked, dropping his stack of letters on the desk and hurrying over to Draco's.

"It's a list… Harry, this… this is a death list. Look – there's the Longbottoms… what are they doing there? And… you. Harry Potter. Lily Potter. James Potter." Draco stared, amazed at the fact that his father would have an old list of intended murders lying around with his papers.

But Harry wasn't paying attention to his family's name, or even the Longbottoms or the Weasleys. Clearly, all the known members of the original Order of the Phoenix were on here, but there was one name that stood out. Regulus Black.

"Hey… there's a code system. Look. You've all got Ps next to your names. That must mean 'Phoenix' for members of the order. And there're a few Ts there as well. What can that mean?"

"Traitor." Harry said, pointing to Regulus' name on the sheet.

"Oh. _Oh_!" Draco said, jumping from his seat excitedly. "Harry! We can work out whether he managed to destroy the Horcrux from this!"

"How? It doesn't have a reason for death on there, just Traitor," Harry said, frowning at Draco's enthusiasm.

"No, no. Look. _Avis revelo,_" Draco said, tapping Regulus' name on the parchment with his wand. Suddenly, cursive letters started to spread across the bottom of the parchment.

Regulus Black: Wanted by the Dark Lord for high treason. Crime: Deserting the Dark Lord and taking with him, and daring to destroy, one of the Dark Lord's most prized possessions, Salazar Slytherin's locket – a family heirloom.

Obviously Lucius, who had written the list, had not been privy to the significance of Slytherin's locket. This did not surprise Harry, as he was quite sure that Voldemort had not told anyone of his plan. So Regulus had destroyed the locket. Well, that was good news. With Slytherin's locket, Marvolo's ring and Riddle's diary destroyed, only two more horcruxes remained to find and destroy before Harry could go after the last two pieces of Voldemort's soul – Nagini the snake and Voldemort himself.

"What spell did you just use?" Harry asked, amazed.

"It reveals what the writer was thinking about when they wrote a particular word or words," Draco said smugly, wiping the parchment clear with a tap of his wand.

"Avis revelo," Harry said shakily, pointing his wand at his own name and then repeating the spell on Neville's name. The words appeared at the bottom of the parchment, as before.

Harry Potter: Wanted dead by the Dark Lord due to a prophecy made predicting the downfall of the Dark Lord at the hands of said boy.

Harry did not react, having expected as much. What he didn't expect, however, was:

_Neville Longbottom: Wanted dead by the Dark Lord's most trusted followers due to the possibility that the prophecy may also apply to said boy._

"Harry… does that mean…" Draco began, but Harry cut him off.

"It means that if Voldemort had believed that Neville, a pureblood wizard, was more of a threat to him than me, the son of a muggleborn, he would have gone after Neville instead. And before you ask, that would mean that Neville would be the parseltongue who almost got sorted into Slytherin. Neville would be the orphan. Neville would be the Boy-Who-Lived. Neville would be the boy that the prophecy applies to. But as it is, Voldemort chose me and in doing so marked me as the one who would challenge him and the one to whom the prophecy applies."

"Harry, what exactly is this prophecy?" Draco asked slowly, as if he was afraid of the answer.

"'Either must die at the hands of the other for neither may live while the other survives,'" Harry recited, without emotion. To his surprise, Draco looked as if he was about to cry.

"And… and that refers to you and V-V-Voldemort," Draco stated, obviously fighting to keep his face and voice clear of emotion. Harry nodded.

Draco stood and walked to the door. Harry noticed that Draco's hand was shaking as he reached for the door knob but before he could say anything, Draco left the room in silence.

Harry had one guess where he was heading. He waited a few minutes and then proceeded to their shared bedroom. Just as he expected, Draco was sitting on his favourite chair, in front of the window.

Harry entered the room silently, realising with a partly guilty but secretly partly pleased feeling that Draco was crying quietly.

"Draco?" Harry called softly, walking towards the window and conjuring up another chair beside Draco before sitting in it.

"I don't want you to die," Draco whispered, his sobs becoming more audible.

"I won't." Harry said firmly, trying to convince himself as much as Draco.

"I won't let you," Draco sobbed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you – I – didn't want you to feel like it was…" Harry trailed off, unsure of what to say. "I don't really know what I'm trying to say here, but the point is I'm sorry for upsetting you."

"I needed to know, please don't apologise," Draco said quietly, still staring out the window with tears running down his face. His sat silently, the suppressed sobs causing his shoulders to shake.

Harry raised a hand to clasp one of Draco's then thought better of it and lowered it again. Draco did not notice. "I'm sorry I'm taking this so badly," he said, reaching up to brush a few tears from his face.

"You're not. Really. Ginny cried for days when I told her."

"You told her? I guess you would have, she is your _girlfriend_." Draco, to Harry's surprise and slight pleasure, sounded bitter.

"No, she isn't."

"Sorry. Easy assumption."

"That's ok. So, are you alright? I'm sorry I didn't tell you before you got into this. You probably want to back out now, and that's completely ok. I really should have told you before I let you-"

"Are you mad? Of course I don't want to back out. How am I going to protect you or help you win this battle if I back out of the deal?" Draco asked incredulously.

Harry smiled softly. "I'm glad you're staying."

"Me too."

They returned to their study, Harry closing the door behind him. When he turned around to face his desk, Draco scooped him into a tight hug. "I won't let you die, I promise," he whispered fiercely into Harry's ear. Harry suppressed a shiver at the slightly possessive tone in Draco's voice.

Draco pulled away looking rather embarrassed. "Sorry," he said, looking away, "I must be feeling pretty emotional today."

"You're telling me," Harry said, grinning.

"Prat," Draco scolded, sitting down at his desk and returning to his papers.

"You do realise we are looking in the wrong place for the information we still need," Harry said amusedly. "We've got what we need from your father's stuff. All we need now is to locate Hufflepuff's cup and work out what the last horcrux is and where to find it. I doubt your father would know any of that."

"Oh. Right. So do we get the rest of the day off?"

"I think that's a good idea," Harry said, "Race you to the back door!" Harry took off and was out the door even before Draco had shouted the first syllable of 'cheater'. Instead of running, Draco decided to take his time and make Harry wait for him.

Harry arrived at the back door, puffing, and threw it open, blinking out into the bright sunlight. Five minutes passed before Draco appeared, smirking.

"What took you so long?" Harry asked, his breathing back to normal.

"Oh, I just had a little chat to Hermione in the library about borrowing her copy of _Hogwarts: A History_." Draco said, smirking as Harry gaped at him.

"Are you mad? Why would you want to read that?"

"Just for a bit of light reading," Draco said.

"Oh no, you're just like Hermione," Harry groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Relax, Harry, I'm joking. I just thought it might help with finding out about the Ravenclaw Horcrux. I think there's a fair bit of information about the founders in there – it might be a good place to start. You do still think the Horcrux we don't know about is one of Ravenclaw's possessions, don't you?" Draco asked.

"Yeah. Yeah I do. Good thinking, Draco," Harry said, holding the door open so Draco could walk outside.

Seated on the grass, Harry's mind turned inevitably back to their work.

"I was thinking… we're going to need to see what Ron's found out soon – sifting through Dumbledore's memories has hopefully revealed some clues as to the whereabouts of the remaining Horcruxes."

"Mmmm," Draco said, closing his eyes and tilting his face up towards the sun, smiling softly.

Harry was silent for a few minutes, thinking about places that Voldemort would think good enough to keep a part of his soul, when Draco interrupted him.

"Harry, stop thinking about work."

"What do you propose I think about then?" Harry asked, amused.

"Something that makes you feel happy and relaxed." Draco said, without opening his eyes. Harry watched his smile grow, and wondered what he was thinking about.

Instead of asking, however, Harry found himself studying the boy, and before he knew it, his thoughts _were_ happy ones. He felt a smile on his face as he realised, and finally accepted, that Draco made him happy, and that there was nothing wrong with that. And maybe, just maybe, Draco felt the same way about him.

At breakfast the next morning, Harry proposed a meeting in the afternoon instead of individual work to discuss their progress so far.

"I think that's a good idea, Harry. Weren't you just saying yesterday that we needed to see what Ron's got? And I'm sure Hermione will have some ideas as an outsider to this information," Draco said.

"Yeah, good idea, Harry. I've got a few ideas to toss around," Ron added.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five – Marks 

At breakfast the next morning, Draco, feeling bored, decided to play his favourite game: make Harry embarrassed.

"So, Harry," he began, taking a pause to sip his coffee, "just how long have you had that little decoration you showed me yesterday?"

Harry blushed; he hadn't told Ron or Hermione about his tattoo. They picked up on it straight away.

"What 'little decoration'?" Hermione asked, frowning thoughtfully.

"You showed him something you haven't shown us?" Ron said, a little hurt but mostly intrigued.

"It's just a tattoo guys, don't get too worked up about it," Harry said embarrassedly.

"Well, show us then," Ron said, eyeing Harry as if he might be able to see it through Harry's clothes.

Glaring at Draco, who merely smirked in return, Harry stood up with an exaggerated sigh and lifted the back of his shirt.

"Cool," Ron said.

"Harry – didn't it hurt?"

"Actually, no, I… cast a little 'no pain' charm on the area first," Harry said, feeling stupid for some reason. He shouldn't have bothered.

"A 'no pain' charm?" Draco asked, impressed. "Where did you pick that up? I haven't heard of them."

"You invented it," Hermione said in a stern tone.

"Um. I sort of adapted it from something else. It's not really very effective, it only works on small areas and it only works for an hour or so."

"Huh," Draco said.

"So when did you get it done?" Ron asked, revoicing Draco's earlier question.

"Just over the summer. That day that we went to Diagon Alley and I disappeared for a couple of hours," Harry said, then, checking his watch, added "sorry guys it's time to get to work. Well, see you at lunch!"

"I wish you'd told us about it," Ron grumbled as Harry left the room without replying.

In their study, Draco sat at his desk and looked at Harry. "I'm sorry I brought it up, I didn't realise it would cause you so much embarrassment. I just figured you told them everything," he said, noticing Harry was quieter than usual.

"That's ok. I don't tell them everything… just the main things. But sometimes I don't even tell them the most important things," Harry responded, giving Draco a smile.

"Like what?"

"Nothing," Harry said quickly, looking away.

"Yes, there is something. That's it again, isn't it? This thing that you don't want to talk about."

"No, it's really… I do tell them most things, but to give you an example, I didn't tell them about the prophecy until Dumbledore told me to. The same with the Horcruxes."

"Hmph. Yeah, ok. But I know you're still hiding something."

Harry laughed uneasily. "You're a little too perceptive sometimes, Draco. It's unnerving."

"Oh really? Do I make you uncomfortable, Harry?" Draco said, eyes sparkling.

"Sometimes," Harry admitted, "in more ways than one," he added in an undertone.

Draco heard, but he wasn't sure if he'd heard what he thought he did, so he ignored it. But he still couldn't help the blush that crept onto his cheeks or the small self-satisfied smile that formed.

Harry didn't notice; he was already immersed in his papers. Scanning some notes of Dumbledore's that Harry had managed to borrow from what was now McGonagall's office, Harry found something that caught his interest.

"Draco, listen: Dumbledore's written notes on the location of Voldemort's mother's grave. It's not too near the Gaunt house – he wouldn't want to make it too easy – so it's possible that Voldemort hid one of the Horcruxes there. We know at least that we should be looking in places that hold some sentimental value for him."

"Yeah. I was wondering if there might actually be something in or near Hogwarts. He loved the school, I think more than anywhere else." Draco said.

"I don't know, it's a possibility, I suppose, but I think it would have been to dangerous for him to hide it in the school, surrounded by wizards – and right under Dumbledore's nose," Harry said, feeling immediately guilty for bursting Draco's confidence as he noticed the crestfallen look on the other boy.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. I'll keep thinking."

"You better, because you come up with lots of brilliant ideas."

"Huh," Draco said, turning back to his papers, embarrassed.

"We should check it out sometime soon – the grave I mean, it's not too far to fly."

"Will we all go?" Draco wondered.

Harry thought about this, for a moment, remembering how difficult and dangerous it had been to obtain the locket – and he had been with Dumbledore then. He opened his mouth to say no, that he would go alone, but then remembered what Ron and Hermione had said to him at the end of sixth year. 'We're with you whatever, Harry'. And Harry realised that Ron and Hermione, even Draco, would be with him: they were in this together, and he was not going to deny them if they wanted to come with him. They would be safer together anyway.

"Yes," he said firmly, feeling he had made the right decision when Draco looked at him proudly.

"I'm glad, Harry. I could tell you were going to say no, but I'm glad you changed your mind. We all need to be a part of this." Draco said, smiling at Harry. "Not to mention I'm happy to be able to come and help protect you," he added, grinning cheekily when Harry scowled at him.

Harry didn't retort, he just turned back to his papers and began to plot a course for the grave. It was quite near the orphanage Tom Riddle had grown up in. Harry supposed this made sense: she had died at the orphanage, after all.

Somehow, two hours passed while Harry was still planning the trip to the grave, and brainstorming possible obstacles they might be faced with. Harry doubted Inferi or poison would be involved; Voldemort wouldn't use the same defences twice – if someone got through the defences of one Horcrux, he wouldn't want them to be able to easily get through those of another. Then again, Voldemort would have thought his defences impossible to pass.

"Harry," Draco whined from across the room, "we've been at this for hours. Can we take a break?"

Harry checked his watch; Draco was right, they'd been working for three hours straight, since eight thirty.

"Ok, a half hour break, then we get back into it for an hour before lunch," he agreed, sitting back from the papers and giving them a glare.

Draco laughed. "What?" Harry asked, annoyed.

"You sure do hate those papers," Draco said, causing Harry to blush.

"Shut up! I'm just tired."

"Heh heh. You're cute when you're embarrassed."

"Oh yeah? Well I'm not the only one!" Harry said, looking proud at his comeback for a grand total of about one second, before looking completely mortified.

"Uh… forget I said that." Harry mumbled, looking away.

Suddenly Draco got up from his desk and walked over to Harry's.

"What if I don't want to?" he asked seriously.

"What?" Harry said, confused. Draco sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. Harry watched, mesmerised by his beauty.

Draco saw the look in Harry's eyes as he watched Draco's hand run through his hair and watched Harry's face as his gaze travelled slowly across to meet Draco's eyes. Harry sighed and looked away, mentally berating himself for almost revealing himself to Draco.

Draco sighed heavily. "Stop shutting me out," he said in a pained voice, "haven't I earned your trust yet?"

"Of course you have, it's just…" Harry trailed off, still refusing to look at Draco.

"No, Harry." Draco said firmly. He was sick of it. He needed to know, once and for all, what Harry was hiding. He needed to know whether or not he… "Not anymore. Just… let go. Look me in the eyes, and let go."

Harry sighed, realising that if he did not comply with Draco's request now, he might never have a chance of gaining the other boy's affection. Slowly he closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself – removing the mental shield that he kept in his mind to mask the things he did not want others to be able to read on his face. When he opened his eyes, he looked straight at Draco, and hid nothing.

Draco gasped. In Harry's eyes, he saw raw pain, much suffering, despair and anguish, but also a fierce hope, determination and passion. But the one that made Draco's breath hitch was the emotion that became clear to him only after he had filtered out all the others. It was desire.

Harry noticed Draco's eyes widen slightly, and realised he must have seen it; seen what Harry had been trying to hide for so long. But just as Harry was about to look away and put up his shields again, Draco said, "Don't."

And slowly, as Harry watched, Draco let his own emotions show through, and Harry thought the mixture of fear, anger, passion, pride and desire was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Neither boy had to ask; they both leaned in at the same time, closing their eyes as their lips met in a soft kiss. When they parted, Draco tenderly brushed some hair from Harry's face.

That simple act almost had Harry undone. He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes blissfully.

"Draco…" he breathed, leaning towards Draco's face.

Draco's eyelids fluttered closed as he kissed Harry again. This time the kiss was passionate and filled with need; they had both waited for so long and now they didn't want to let go.

By the third kiss, Harry and Draco were shedding their shirts, their hands roaming over and delighting in the smooth skin and taut muscle of the other's body. By the fourth, Draco was lowering Harry to the ground, gripping Harry's forearms tightly.

Neither Harry nor Draco noticed the two soft pops and sudden appearance of Ron and Hermione in the room.

"What's wro-" Hermione began, looking around wildly. On catching sight of the pair on the ground, quickly fell silent. Surprisingly, her face formed a smirk. More surprisingly, so did Ron's.

"Ahem," Hermione said loudly, glancing at Ron amusedly when the two boys on the ground paid no attention.

"Allow me," Ron mouthed, smirking at Hermione. She nodded, wondering what he'd do.

"Death Eater!" Ron shouted, feigning horror and grinning when Draco ripped his lips from Harry's and turned his head sharply to look at Ron.

"Ah… you called?" Hermione asked, barely concealing her amusement.

Harry and Draco both blushed; Draco sat up on Harry and glared at Ron and Hermione.

"No," he said, attempting a cold tone.

Hermione laughed. "Shove off, Draco, you're not Malfoy anymore!"

Draco grinned; Hermione was right.

"No, we didn't," Harry said confusedly, cutting in. He attempted to push Draco off him, but Draco refused to move. Harry sighed exasperatedly when Draco merely settled himself more comfortably on Harry.

"But… we felt it. Both of us," Hermione said, also looking confused.

"Do you think it set itself off or something? I mean, we haven't used them before," Ron said, looking thoughtful.

"Wait, Draco, press Harry's tattoo," Hermione said, looking as if a sudden insight hit her.

Draco complied, and when he felt his own tattoo grow warm, he looked at it in surprise. The circle was dark red for a few moments before returning to it's normal black colour.

"Huh. Weird." Draco commented, looking at Hermione expectantly.

"Why is everyone looking at me?" Hermione said exasperatedly.

"We're waiting for an explanation, Hermione," Ron said, amused.

"Oh… right. Obviously it works if any one of us presses on someone's tattoo. I suppose it doesn't make much of a difference except we're going to have to be careful not to have a repeat of something like this. Particularly if we're not all in the same place." Hermione said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Ron snorted. Harry blushed. Draco pouted.

"Aww, but Hermione, it's so fun!" Draco whined, scowling at Harry when he hit Draco on the back of the head.

"Don't put on that baby voice, it's annoying. And get off me," Harry said, suddenly becoming very aware of the fact that Draco was sitting on his hips and feeling his face heating up.

"Do I make you uncomfortable, Harry?" Draco asked coyly, wriggling around, grinning as he felt Harry's body responding. Ron looked horrified; Hermione looked slightly annoyed.

"Right, well… we'll just leave now," Ron said, hurrying to try and drag Hermione from the room.

"Yes, but we'll talk later about this business, Hermione said, sounding almost reproaching.

In spite of his embarrassment, Draco giggled in a very un-Malfoyish sort of way as soon as the door had clicked shut behind Ron and Hermione.

"What's got into you today?" Harry asked, laughing as Draco tried to suppress his giggles.

"Nothing, I just… they were so funny – Ron so horrified, and Hermione so disapproving. And neither of them knew what to do! Merlin, that was funny."

"Yeah? Well, do you know what I _don't_ find funny?" Harry growled. Draco immediately stopped laughing and looked at Harry, slightly nervously.

"Wh-what?" he asked, not daring to break eye contact with Harry.

"You. Teasing me unbearably, in front of my _friends_, might I add, getting me all worked up – and then _not following through_," Harry said pointedly, rolling his hips under Draco for added emphasis.

"Oh. _Oh_!" Draco laughed again, stretching out on top of Harry. "You had me worried there for a moment, Potter, I thought it was something serious," he whispered, leaning in to touch his lips to Harry's. To his surprise, Harry turned his face away. Draco pulled back, frowning. "What is it now?" he asked almost irritably.

"You called me 'Potter'," Harry said, clearly hurt.

"Harry, I wasn't trying to distance myself from you or anything," Draco explained, correctly interpreting Harry's discomfort with the nickname, "I was just teasing you."

"Yeah, well, I still don't like it," Harry grumbled, "it reminds me of our old rivalry."

"Yeah, but you can't deny it was fun at the time. Face it, Harry, you loved tormenting no one more than me."

Harry looked guilty. Draco smiled. "I'm not angry, I'm just stating a fact. And trying to point out that – well, we have always seemed to have a bit of a thing for each other, don't you think?"

"If you're implying-" Harry began, but Draco cut him off.

"All I'm _implying_," he said, imitating Harry's tone of voice, "is that we've always sought each other out to express particularly strong emotions. First, anger… and now…" Draco trailed off, unsure of the appropriate word to fill the gap; unsure of the level of seriousness Harry sought.

"Desire," Harry supplied helpfully.

"Yes," Draco said, relieved that there was not, at this stage at least, any pressure for anything more. "And now, if you _don't _mind, I believe we were in the middle of something."

"Mmmm," Harry mumbled, allowing Draco to kiss him passionately for a few minutes, hands roaming, before pulling away abruptly. "As much as I'd like to continue," he began, quailing under Draco's glare, "I think – I think perhaps we should move to a more comfortable and perhaps _private_ location." He said, sighing with relief when Draco nodded, no longer annoyed at the interruption.

"For a moment I thought you were going to say 'it's lunch time', or something equally as idiotic and Gryffindorkish." Draco said, as they lowered themselves onto Harry's bed and cuddled together. Harry didn't reply; blushing slightly, he attempted to distract Draco by placing kisses on his neck. Draco moaned, seemingly forgetting about it before-

"You _were_ going to say that, weren't you?" Draco gave a loud, dramatic sigh. "What am I going to do with you, Harry Potter?" He asked theatrically as Harry raised his head to look intently at Draco.

"Keep me, hopefully," Harry said, breaking the seriousness with a cheeky smile.

Draco smiled back, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck and pulling him down so that Harry's face was buried in the crook of his neck.

"That I will," he said, running a hand through Harry's hair and sighing contentedly as Harry smiled into his neck.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six – Lunch time? 

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Ron and Hermione were having a hushed argument.

"Oh, Ron, just go get them for lunch!" Hermione snapped, pointing at the kitchen door for added emphasis.

"I don't want to go up there! What if they're you-know-what-ing?"

"Don't be ridiculous, they won't be having sex!" Hermione said irritably.

"Yeah? Well why don't you go up, then?"

"Because I made lunch! And I asked _you_ to go get them while I put lunch on the table."

"You know what? I think they'll come down when they're hungry," Ron said sensibly, deciding that he had had enough arguing.

Hermione sighed. "You're probably right. We'll just eat, and they can come down when they're ready."

But, three hours later, when Ron and Hermione had finished eating, and had been back at work for a couple of hours, Harry and Draco had still not gone down to eat.

"'Mione," Ron said, knocking on the door to the library, "they still haven't gone downstairs."

"Maybe they're asleep. Just knock on the door, Ron, it won't kill you." Hermione said, amusedly.

"Why can't you do it?"

"Because, Ron, I'm a heterosexual girl. And as my boyfriend you should be avoiding circumstances where I may come across one or more attractive, nude males."

"Okay, okay," Ron grumbled, turning red at the honesty of her statement. He hadn't even considered that. He slouched down the corridor, barely pausing to breathe before knocking on the door to Harry and Draco's shared room.

There was no answer, so Ron assumed they were asleep and it was therefore safe enough to go in. He opened the door a crack and listened; nothing. Opening the door widely he confidently stepped into the room. And promptly shouted in horror at the scene before him.

Clothes were strewn everywhere and not one of the bedclothes was where it should be. Somehow even the fitted sheet had come loose at the bottom end and was twisting itself up. A naked Harry was sprawled face down on top of an equally naked Draco.

"Oh sweet Merlin!" Ron shouted, causing both Harry and Draco to jerk awake.

Harry looked at Ron, who was looking rather pale. "Hey, Ron. Is it lunch time?"

"Lunch?" Ron repeated, looking dumbstruck.

"Yes. Lunch. The midday meal. I'm actually quite hungry, after all that," Draco commented cheekily. Neither Harry nor Draco were the slightest bit concerned at being barged in on.

Ron continued to gape, but managed a relatively ineloquent snort of disgust.

"So… is it lunch time then?" Harry asked, trying not to smile at Ron's behaviour.

"Lunch was three hours ago. But there's some left over in the fridge," Hermione commented, coming to stand in the doorway. She seemed calm enough, but on close inspection her cheeks were slightly pink and she appeared to be trying to decide whether to look at Harry and Draco or not. She compromised by staring with feigned interest at the clothes strewn on the floor. The sound of Hermione's voice seemed to rouse Ron somewhat; he gained a bit of colour in his face and whirled around to face her.

"What are you doing here? They're naked! Leave now, please," he instructed, shooing Hermione out of the room. He turned back to Harry and Draco when he reached the corridor, opening his mouth to say something, but deciding against it and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Draco started to giggle. Again. Harry wondered absently if Ron or Hermione had surreptitiously placed a cheering charm on Draco at some point during the day. Then he began to wonder if he was coming down with something. Was there any kind of illness where symptoms were preceded by giggling fits?

"Draco, are you feeling alright?" Harry asked, feeling the forehead of the still-giggling Draco.

Draco stopped giggling and looked at Harry oddly. "Yes, I'm fine. Why?"

"You're just… laughing a lot today."

"So? Maybe I'm just happy," Draco said, grinning.

"And why are you so happy today? I haven't seen you this happy for… actually, I don't think I've ever seen you this happy."

"Aren't you happy?"

"Well… generally, no, not really. But right now, and today in general, I'm happy."

"And why is that?"

"Because of you," Harry replied unblushingly.

"Right," Draco said, nodding acceptingly, "and do you think that _I_ might be happy because of _you_?"

"Oh. Oh, so that's it, then," Harry said, breaking out into a smile.

"Yep, that's it," Draco said, leaning in to catch Harry's lips. "Now come on," he said as he pulled away again, "You must be hungry, you left breakfast early."

"I'm not that hungry, maybe we can stay up here for a bit longer?" Harry suggested, trying to kiss Draco again. Just as their lips touched, Harry's stomach gave a very loud growl. They broke apart, both laughing.

"Ok, ok, we'll go get food," Harry said, standing up and heading for the door.

"Ahem," Draco said, looking pointedly at Harry's bareness.

"Right. Clothes."

Draco watched leisurely as Harry pulled on some pants and threw a shirt on, not bothering to do up the buttons. When Harry turned to look at Draco, still lying, with no apparent intention of moving, on the bed, and raised his eyebrows, he shrugged and smiled lazily.

"I'm feeling to self-satisfied to move right now, I'll be down in a minute," Draco said.

Harry grinned and nodded, saying, "I'll see you down there then. Don't wait too long."

Draco nodded, leaning further back on the bed and closing his eyes. He allowed a blissful smile to grace his features as Harry closed the door softly and felt that he was about to doze off, when the peaceful silence was interrupted by some very loud yelling coming from downstairs.

Sighing, he got to his feet and headed towards the source of the noise, intent on berating whoever was creating it. He stopped dead when he heard his name mentioned.

"… Draco! Look, Harry, It's fine if you just want to fool around with him a bit, but what you're talking about… no, I'm sorry, I can't accept it!"

"Ron, I'm not saying anything! I don't understand what's wrong with this. What does it matter to you who I'm in a relationship with!"

Draco pushed the kitchen door open a crack and managed to see the side of Harry's face. From what he could see, Harry had rarely been so angry. He was red in the face, his features contorted with rage. Draco thought this unusual show of anger was surprisingly beautiful. And a huge turn-on.

"I'm just concerned, that's all! I mean, you've hated each other for years, I don't think you're ready for-"

"You're wrong!" Harry interrupted.

Draco heard an exasperated sigh and recognised it as Ron's. When he spoke again it was in a falsely calm voice. "Well, all I'm saying is that when you've hated someone, it's pretty dumb to expect that you can suddenly turn around and-"

"But I have."

"Yes, but don't you think it's a bit to soon to be saying-"

"Saying what, exactly?"

"Saying that you love him?"

Draco caught his breath; surely not. He must have misheard.

"I never said that, Ron. You're making assumptions."

Draco breathed a sigh of what he assumed to be relief, even as his heart clenched painfully and his stomach dropped a few metres.

"Well, I just think-"

"No, I've had enough! I don't need this shit from you, Ron! You're my best mate, for Merlin's sake. You're meant to support me."

"I'm trying to understand-"

"There's nothing to understand! All you need to know is that I want to be with him, and no one else. Indefinitely. I'm not saying anything about love. All I'm saying is that right now, and for the foreseeable future, there is no one other than Draco that I think I _could_ love."

"And all I'm saying is that I don't think you should rush into things when you've hat-"

"Will you stop telling me how much I hated him? You don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, you told me how much you did."

"When? When was the last time you heard me say 'I hate Malfoy'?"

"Sixth year." Draco's stomach clenched and twisted as he heard the words, even though he had expected them.

"I never said it in sixth year."

"Why were you so obsessed with what he was doing, then, if it wasn't to catch him and get him in trouble?"

"Good word choice. Did you hear what you just said? Obsession and hate are two very different things," Harry said quietly.

"Oh, _god_," Ron said, "You _are_ in love with him, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not. Not yet, at least. But I don't understand why it's such a big deal. Why are you making such a fuss? You were telling me, just yesterday, how much you think Draco's changed and how you think you could grow to really like him. You even said that you were already starting to consider him as a friend."

"Yes, well, that was before I-"

"And Draco told me that you effectively gave him your blessing," Harry added, making Draco cringe. He would pay for that later, when Ron found him.

"That was before I found out your intentions!" Ron said angrily.

"And what difference does it make to you, pray tell, whether I shag him or shag him and take him out to dinner occasionally?" Despite himself, Draco had to laugh a little at this comment; it was so like Harry to make a funny comment like that without even intending to.

Ron, however, did not seem to find it amusing. "It's just the seriousness of it all. You have to be really sure before you get into this kind of thing, Harry."

"Oh. Right. Like you were? Should I have waited until we'd been friends for six years before I made a move? Like you did?" Harry said, the sarcastic tone in his voice very pronounced.

"Well, obviously _six_ years is quite a long time to-"

'Ron, I may not be around for very long. You of all people should know and acknowledge that. Let me be happy while I have a chance at it," Harry pleaded, and Draco knew, before Ron had even sighed in defeat, that Harry had done it.

"Fine," Ron sighed, "if it really does make you happy, I'll accept it. I just – want you to be careful. Don't get your heart broken."

"I won't," Harry agreed. "I'd better go get Draco… he said he'd be down – maybe he's fallen asleep again…"

Draco had nipped back to the top of the stairs when Harry had started speaking and was pretending to be just coming down when Harry left the kitchen. Harry's scowl immediately brightened into a smile when he caught sight of Draco.

"I thought you might be asleep," Harry said, meeting Draco at the bottom of the stairs and wrapping his arms around his waist.

"With that racket? Are you joking?" Draco asked, grinning to show he wasn't annoyed.

"I'm sorry. Could you hear what we were arguing about?" Harry asked worriedly, fixing Draco with such a piercing look that Draco felt compelled to tell the truth, even if he wanted to lie to make Harry feel better.

"Yeah, I did. Pretty hard to miss, really," Draco added, trying to lighten the mood.

Harry gave a small smile. "I'm sorry you had to hear that," he said seriously, leaning his forehead against Draco's and enjoying the proximity. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

"You should have cast a silencing charm," Draco admonished, laughing when Harry pulled away and fixed him with a glare.

"Prat. You're meant to say 'it's not your fault'."

"But that would be lying," Draco said cheekily, ducking out of Harry's reach as a light slap was aimed at the back of his head.

Dinner that night was a very quiet affair. No one spoke except to ask someone to 'pass the potatoes'. Hermione, of course, had been filled in on the argument by Draco, and was consequently ignoring Ron. Ron was in turn ignoring Hermione, though he and Harry caught each other's gaze and rolled their eyes at each other every so often to Hermione's great annoyance.

After dinner Hermione retired to hers and Ron's shared room, surprising everyone with a 'goodnight', albeit a less-than-cheerful one, before closing the kitchen door behind her.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as they listened to her bedroom door closing upstairs.

Draco spoke first. "Sorry, I shouldn't have told her. I didn't realise it would have that effect," he said, glancing up at the ceiling to indicate Hermione.

"I would have told her, anyway," Harry said, "don't beat yourself up about it."

Draco raised his eyebrows at the expression. "No, I don't suppose I will go upstairs and punch myself in the face now that you've mentioned it," he said sarcastically.

"Muggle expression," Ron said in an explanatory tone, "he uses it a lot."

"Ah. Then perhaps you would like to know that the wizarding equivalent is 'don't hex yourself over it'." Draco said, grinning at Ron.

Ron grinned back as Harry considered the phrase. Finally he smiled. "Works for me," he said, rising from the table. "I can't be bothered with clearing the table tonight," and he pointed his fingers at the table as the dishes rose from the table and landed gently in the sink before beginning to wash themselves.

"Man, Harry, you've gotta warn us when you're going to do things like that," Ron said, slightly awed.

Harry said nothing, merely shrugging apologetically at Ron before he walked slowly and provocatively from the table to the door, swaying his hips in a deliberately enticing manner. Draco watched, transfixed, as Harry, having reached the door, turned his head back over his shoulder and gave Draco a smouldering gaze. Ron groaned as Harry disappeared from sight and Draco promptly scurried after him.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven - Defenses**

Defense training was a relatively simple affair; Hermione looked up new jinxes, curses, hexes, counter curses and protective spells and then they all learned them. Harry was usually the first to pick them up, but Draco was particularly fast at learning the slightly darker spells.

"Draco," Hermimone began tentatively one morning, looking as if she was having second thoughts once all eyes in the room fell on her. "I was thinking…maybe we should learn _Avada Kedavra_."

"Why are you telling me this?" Draco asked, already knowing and hating the answer.

"Because you already know it, don't you. You should teach us," Hermione pressed.

Harry drew in a sharp breath; he knew it would have to happen, but he was hoping it would be later rather than sooner. He should have known Hermione would beat him to it.

Draco looked at Harry thoughtfully for a moment before answering, and as he spoke, he kept his gaze on Harry.

"I think you're right, Hermione, but I want to know if Harry thinks there's anything else we need to know before we learn it."

Harry was grateful to Draco; he was allowing Harry the opportunity to let Draco know he was not ready without appearing weak to the others. Harry thought carefully about his answer before giving it.

"I'm not sure if there's something we might have overlooked – let's take a couple of days and I'll think about it." Harry said, looking at Draco. To his relief, Draco smiled and nodded.

"You're right, of course. We should wait and see if there's anything we've forgotten or missed."

That night after dinner, Harry and Draco retired to their room early. They were lying in bed, Harry leaning against Draco. One of Draco's arms was draped casually around Harry's torso.

"Harry, are you ok? You're being very quiet," Draco said, running his free hand through Harry's hair as Harry snuggled back against his chest.

"I'm f-"

"Don't lie to me, Potter," Draco growled causing Harry to tense.

"I'm just worried."

"About what? Learning the killing curse?"

"Not really. Just about… what's to come. It'll happen sooner than later, you know. Either Voldemort or I will be dead before I turn eighteen."

"Soon after Christmas, I would think," Draco said conversationally. Harry stiffened.

"You're not helping."

"Harry, I _know_ you're going to win," Draco said sincerely.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I don't know how I can be sure, but I am. It's just… a feeling I have."

"Well, I'm glad someone believes in me," Harry said softly.

Draco tightened his hold on Harry and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck. "_Everyone_ believes in you. Even the Death Eaters are worried."

**Death-training**

"Potter, stop being such a wimp! You can do this. It's only a fly!" Draco snapped, as yet another fly flew past Harry without a scratch inflicted on it. Hermione caught it with a well-placed stunning charm and dropped it into a jar.

"If it's only a fly, how do we know we'll be able to do it on Death Eaters?" Ron grumbled.

"Because you'll know it's either them or you!" Draco shouted, rounding on Ron. "And stop stunning them, Hermione, you should be practising killing them!"

"You know," Harry said in the deathly calm voice that he seemed to reserve for those times that he was extraordinarily angry, "I don't think I want to continue working when people are going to shout at me for trying my hardest." Draco shivered at the tone of his voice. Hermione immediately rushed to the rescue.

"Let's have an early lunch break, and have another go once we've all been fed, shall we?" She suggested, "I know Ron can't work on an empty stomach, and I get really grumpy when I'm hungry," she said, cleverly avoiding reference to either Draco or Harry's tempers.

Harry nodded stiffly, leading the way from the room in silence. Ron and Hermione followed in equal silence, leaving Draco to boil in his own rage.

He stood still, trying to calm himself, and forced his anger down. He would expel it later, by other means. Maybe he could conjure one of those muggle punching bags. At least, he knew there would be no sex that night, so he'd better find some other way of getting rid of all his negative energy.

As they all sat down to lunch, Hermione busied herself at the sink, preparing drinks for everyone and taking the opportunity to slip a few drops of relaxing potion into everyone's glass.

Harry felt the tension ebbing away from him as he sipped his drink, and immediately cast a suspicious glance at Hermione. She merely smiled secretively, and Harry shook his head, grinning. He was glad someone thought of these sorts of things. Fortunately, Ron and Draco were too busy glaring each other down to notice the silent exchange.

"Well, I certainly feel better after that meal. Great idea, Hermione," Harry said loudly, interrupting the death stare match going on between his best friend and his boyfriend.

"FOR MERLIN'S SAKE!" Draco shouted at Harry, "YOU HAVE TO MEAN IT!"

Harry's eyes darkened with rage; he was suddenly miles away, back at the Ministry in the Atrium the day that Sirius had fallen through the veil.

"You have to mean it." Bellatrix Lestrange had taunted him with those words. Bellatrix, who had killed Harry's godfather, and tortured Neville's parents into insanity, had then tried to kill Harry, taking great pleasure in making him angry.

"Avada Kedavra," Harry growled, pointing his wand at Bellatrix who suddenly morphed into a fly that was zooming towards him. There was a flash of green light, and the fly fell to the ground, dead.

"Finally!" Draco said loudly, "About time, Potter. The others mastered it before you did. What were you thinking about?"

Harry looked at Draco, allowing him to see the rage still contained within his memory. The word he wanted to say was on the tip of his tongue – the word that would make him feel better about some of the pain and frustration he had felt recently. He let it go.

"You," Harry said coldly, leaving the room swiftly for the back garden.

Hermione and Ron stared after Harry, shocked. Hermione shifted her gaze from the hallway to Draco, who was standing stiffly and had a shocked expression on his face that looked as though he had just been slapped in the face. Gradually, that expression changed and Draco's whole body seemed to droop as his face showed his pain.

Suddenly he seemed to come to himself, and left the room as quickly as Harry had, not looking at either Ron or Hermione.

Draco, upon leaving the room, had initially intended to go to his room and wait for Harry to come and apologise, but he quickly changed his mind on realising that he could be waiting all day. It would be faster to find him and make it happen. Now.

Draco guessed correctly that Harry would be sitting on the stone bench in the garden. He was facing away from him and showed no sign of hearing Draco enter the garden, so Draco was momentarily stunned when Harry spoke.

"You found me," he said tonelessly.

"I found you," Draco said, "first guess," he added, smiling despite himself.

"What are we doing, Draco?"

"I don't know," Draco admitted, coming to sit on the bench next to Harry.

"How is this going to work? We can't stand each other."

"That's not true. I can stand you. I can stand a lot of you," Draco said. Harry said nothing, but looked at Draco for the first time. His look was one of disbelief.

"How did you know I was here?" Draco asked, choosing to ignore Harry's blatant disbelief. Obviously he was not ready to face the truth.

"My wandless magic told me. It recognises your magic's aura."

"Why does it do that?"

"Because I want it to, I imagine."

"Why?"

"I don't know. To know when you're around, and to know how you're feeling and if you're safe."

"That's pretty advanced sounding."

Harry ignored this last comment, choosing instead to address what he considered to be the important issue.

"I lied."

Draco knew immediately what he was talking about and nodded, to show he understood. "Why?" He asked, afraid of the answer.

"To cause you pain."

"But why?" Draco asked, feeling suffocated.

"Because you were yelling at me. Because you were pissing me off. Because I wanted you to feel some of what I felt when you were treating me like dirt."

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered, bowing his head to hide his tears.

"Me too," Harry said, resting his head on Draco's shoulder.

Draco felt wetness on his shoulder and laughed softly. "Look what we do to each other," he said, lifting his head and shrugging his shoulder to make Harry look at him.

"How can we possibly make this work?" Harry wondered, gazing searchingly at Draco.

"We _will_ make this work, because I want it to."

"I do too."


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight – Hufflepuff**

The days passed quickly in a haze of training and research. Harry had pinpointed the precise location of Helga Hufflepuff's cup: it was buried in Merope Riddle (Gaunt)'s grave.

Hermione, meanwhile, had been researching the best way to destroy the horcruxes as they found them.

"I just don't understand why Dumbledore would use the 'destructus' curse. It's so primitive, and surely he knew the repercussion would be an almost-useless hand. It was unlike him, to perform such a temperamental curse on a ring while he was wearing it!" She said at top-speed to Ron one evening as they sat in the library.

"Maybe Voldemort put curses on them to prevent the more advanced and commonly known spells. I bet he would overlook anything as primitive as _destructus_. That's probably why Dumbledore used it," Ron mused, flipping the page and missing the look of stunned awe on Hermione's face.

"I can't believe I didn't think of that!" She shrieked. "Of course," she continued more calmly, the logical side of her returning once more, "of course, you're right. And we'll need to put up all sorts of shields to protect us from the curse, it's terribly dangerous."

At this point, Harry and Draco entered the room, looking serious.

"What is it?" Ron asked excitedly. "Are we going?"

"Yes. I think we should go now," Harry replied, then, with a nudge from Draco, he added: "As soon as we've had dinner, that is."

"Yes, yes, of course," Hermione muttered, feverishly turning pages of the book she was currently reading.

"You down with that, Hermione?" Harry asked, amused.

"Of course," she whispered, not paying the slightest attention.

"RIGHT THEN!" Draco yelled, grinning. "WE'LL JUST GO DESTROY THE HORCRUX AND LEAVE YOU TO YOUR READING, HERMIONE!"

"What?" Hermione asked, suddenly looking at Harry and Draco for the first time.

"We're going to have dinner, then we're going to find the horcrux," Harry said.

"Oh. Oh! Right! Good," she said, leaping out of her seat and staring around impressively. "I've worked out, sorry," she said, on hearing Ron clear his throat pointedly, "_we've_ worked out how to destroy it."

"Excellent," Harry said, "and do you have any ideas what we might be facing?"

"Well, there is the possibility of zombies. Buried underground with it," Hermione said.

"So we need to stun them, I presume?" Draco inquired, totally unconcerned.

"Actually, stunning doesn't work on zombies," Hermione continued, looking excited at the prospect of lecturing Draco. "They are, like Inferi, afraid of fire and light, so casting lumos soleil on them should work fine."

"Right. Let's eat," Ron commanded, hording them all out of the room.

Dinner was a quiet affair; everyone was mentally preparing themselves, although they knew that, with four of them, they were unlikely to get seriously hurt.

They arrived at Merope Gaunt's grave which was situated in a cemetery close to the orphanage soon after eight. Harry put the used portkey in his right pocket, carefully patting down his left pocket and feeling reassured that the return portkey was safely resting there.

"Right," Harry said, "this is it."

"How do we get it?" Ron asked.

"Last time, I tried a summoning charm. It didn't get it, but at least I saw what we were up against." Harry responded, frowning down at the tombstone.

"Accio Horcrux," Ron said, pointing his wand at the ground.

As expected, no horcrux came flying out of the ground. Instead, a disfigured, slightly green fist shot through the ground, spread its fingers, and then retracted, slowly and menacingly.

"Zombies," Hermione whispered. "I was right."

"Right then," Draco said, speaking for the first time. "Anyone know any digging charms?" He looked at Hermione as he spoke, but as she opened her mouth to answer, Harry shook his head.

"We'll have to dig manually. Voldemort would have intended it that way," Harry said, conjuring four shovels out of thin air. He tossed one to each of the other three, and started to dig at the ground before his feet. "Come on, then, we don't have all night."

Grinning, Draco set to work. Ron and Hermione followed suit a moment later.

They worked in relative silence, for a while, pausing now and then to pass a dirty hand over a sweaty brow, until-

"Aaaaargh!" Ron shouted as a zombie hand grabbed his ankle. Apparently the zombie had not taken kindly to its face being dug into. Before Harry, Draco or Hermione had had a chance to act, Ron had taken his shovel and plunged it into the zombie's neck with surprising force.

They all watched, disgusted, as the zombie's head fell away from its body. However, the zombie's hand did not loosen its grip. In fact, the other hand clutched at Ron also. Apparently they didn't need their heads to keep going.

Draco, recovering first, whipped out his wand and shouted "lumos soleil!" A bright light shot towards the zombie, and it retreated further into the ground.

"Stop digging there," Harry said as Ron massaged his ankle gently. Ron nodded.

Several long minutes passed in an anxious silence before Hermione broke it.

"I think I've got it, Harry," she whispered.

Everyone stopped digging and peered into the hold Hermione was standing above. At the bottom was a royal looking golden chest, encrusted with black onyx.

"I think you're right, Hermione," Harry commented, "It's so like him to keep his soul in something that precious looking."

Hermione reached down to lift the chest, but Harry stopped her with his arm.

"Wingardium leviosa," he said, levitating the chest ans lowering it to sit on the ground before him. "I don't know that we should touch it," he explained, "at least not until the horcrux is destroyed. That is a part of Voldemort's soul in there."

"Alohamora," Draco whispered, watching expectantly as the lid of the chest fell open. Helga Hufflepuff's cup, looking exactly as it had in Hokey the house elf's memory, but perhaps a little duller, lay inside.

"OK, stand back," Hermione instructed, pulling out her wand and performing a complex series of charms to shield them from whatever might happen. Harry frowned, wondering if she was going to destroy it herself.

"Right, Harry, go ahead," she said, then, mistaking his hesitation, added, "it's secure."

"Destructus," Harry whispered, pointing his wand at the cup and giving it a sharp jab in the right direction.

There was a small explosion that rocked the ground and rattled the shields, before everything went still. Harry stepped closer to the chest and peered inside, lowering his wand and holding it loosely by his side. The cup had broken cleanly in two and was mysteriously oozing a sickly yellow looking fluid.

Suddenly the ground erupted as zombies dug themselves out and started closing in on the group. Harry, who was nearest to the cup, was the first focal point. He hardly had time to raise his wand before the first zombie was upon him, but three voices from behind him shouted various spells.

"Incarcerous!" Draco cried, hitting the zombie that was after Harry and causing it to stumble to the ground, tied up in thick ropes.

"Lumos soleil!" Hermione shouted, hitting two at once and causing them to collapse, clutching at their eyes.

"Expecto Patronum!" Ron shouted and watched his horse patronus gallop towards the zombies, only to have them walk right through it. Ron faltered. "Uh, right. Um, Incarcerous! Incarcerous! Incarcerous!" He shouted, tying up the last three zombies.

"Thanks guys," Harry panted, "shouldn't have let my guard down." He gave them a sheepish smile, before reaching down and picking up the chest. Draco held his breath, and Harry gave him a reassuring smile. "It's ok, I knew I'd be able to touch it now. The magic's gone, look."

The others looked curiously at the yellow fluid. "I'm guessing it's Voldemort's dying soul. The diary oozed black, which I thought at the time was ink, but maybe…" Harry mused, correctly interpreting their confusion.

"Let's go," he said, putting a halt to all further talk until they were back at the house. "Oh, wait," he muttered, pointing his wand at the loosened soil. "Wingardium leviosa," he said, returning the soil to the grave. "Sorry Merope," he whispered, holding out the return portkey for the others to take a hold of.


End file.
